I don’t like graveyards, the woman thought to herself, stopping at the prescribed spot on the tour, waiting for the guide to continue.
Neither do I, said a voice from behind her. I prefer to roam.
Snapping her head around to search for the speaker, the woman found herself alone in the corner of the garden. Her fellow tourists huddled around the guide, engrossed in the details of the place.
But there’s no use being afraid of them, if that’s what the trouble is, the voice continued. You’re already one of us; you must simply remember forward, it said.
Then there is no more fear.
The woman had never been more terrified in her life and sprinted to catch up with the group.
Damn tourists, muttered the ghost.